


Sticks and Stones

by zunlight



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Catra Needs Therapy (She-Ra), F/F, Korra and Asami for fun idk, Lacrosse, Lesbian Adora (She-Ra), Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Oblivious Adora (She-Ra), POV Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), mentions of child abuse, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zunlight/pseuds/zunlight
Summary: Catra's been working over the past six years hard to piece herself back together after a sports injury and a horrible falling out with her best friend, and possibly more, Adora. With a new job as a lacrosse coach to middle school girls, her old wounds finally begin to scar, with the help of therapy and time. When everything starts working towards being okay, maybe even good, a big ass wrench is thrown in her plans when she sees her ex best friend again at a lacrosse tournament. Old wounds get ripped open and six years of anger reemerge, in this dramatic friends to enemies to maybe something else.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! This is my second fic so I am still very new to this, but I hope you like it! As you will be able to tell soon, I miss playing sports and have projected my feelings into writing. To all those unfamiliar with the amazing sport of women's lacrosse, I'll try my best to include any definitions I think are important, but feel free to ask me any questions too! Thank you for spending the time to read!
> 
> TW: Mentions of unhealthy coping strategies (drinking) and child abuse

Catra _hated_ waking up early. Even if it was to coach a sport that she loved with rambunctious middle school girls, being at the tournament grounds at 7:20am before their first game was a disaster waiting to happen. Gathering the girls at 6:50 that morning and herding them into the rented van to get them to the field was already asking for a headache, and then they had to play absolutely horrible rap – or _hype,_ as the girls said - music, probably way too obscene for 12 and 13-year olds the whole way there. But Catra had a reputation to maintain, she wasn’t just the _cool_ coach because she wore a badass red bandana and sleek black RayBans, she let the girls have free reign over the nearly broken aux chord, something the other coaches wouldn’t dare allow. _Maybe they had a point, though,_ Catra thought, when one of the more rambunctious, and borderline dangerous, girl named Korra played “Smack a Bitch” by Rico Nasty going on _six_ times and screamed EVERY part flawlessly. It was honestly a bit impressive, if not a bit scary.

Despite the early start, Catra couldn’t help but contain her excitement spread across her face for their games that day. The tournament itself brought in teams from all over Etheria, ranging from all different skill levels. The Fright Zone Felines, the team Catra coached, was ranked nationally and was named the best middle-school travel lacrosse team in the South. Catra herself had a love hate relationship with the name, but she especially loved it when she crushed a team who dare talk bad it. Her team had fantastic players, some natural and some made. Catra was incredibly proud of the team she taught, and sure, they were annoying as hell at times, but they slowly and unknowingly helped Catra reclaim and re-love a sport she hated for six years of her life after pouring her heart and soul into it all throughout high school.

She took the job initially as a favor to one of her only friends, Scorpia, as their old coach just stopped showing up one day and never came back. Catra needed a job, she had experience playing competitive lacrosse in high school, and Scorpia was a little desperate, so boom here she was. Two months later and now that the rowdy 7th graders have grown on her – she would _never_ admit that to anyone, especially Scorpia – and the early wakeup call was well worth the adrenaline rush she got when her team won, or one of the girls utilized a play she taught them. During these games, even when she wasn’t playing, she could shove down any loud, intrusive thoughts and focus only on the game in front of her. It was oddly meditative, or at least it normally was when she didn’t lose her temper and end up projective some old regrets on an unexpecting 12-year old who missed a pass. But after some more desperately needed therapy sessions to ground her and work through getting back into the sport that nearly broke her heart, in conjunction with one specific, impulsive blonde, she was getting better. Or trying to, anyways.

When they arrived and approached the field on the first day of the tournament, stepping onto the fresh cut grass, heavy with morning dew, a familiar sensation filled Catra’s stomach. A feeling of excitement, nervousness, and a pang of nostalgia overwhelmed her as she watched the girls, who were _way_ too energetic for barely being able to see the sun, run towards the sideline to drop their bags and put on their equipment. Catra followed shortly behind, trying her hardest not to think of the last time she stepped onto a field before a big game, a bag of lacrosse balls in tow.

“Alright girls sticks up in three minutes! Put on your cleats and let’s warm up those legs!” Catra shouts, clapping her hands together, peering over once the girls disperse and scouts out the incoming team. Just from an initial glance, Catra knew the opposing team had no chance. The coach is decked, seriously _decked_ , in pink. Like pink socks, tight black athletic pants, pink jacket, and a floral headband holding back her nearly white hair. Almost every member of the other team was scrawny and looked timid, and Catra couldn’t help but smirk. Nothing like a good warm up game to build up a team’s confidence for a more difficult, better matched opponent later that day.

Catra’s team was way better than she deserved, and as much as she would never care to admit, they helped her as much as she helped them. Catra enjoyed, somewhat reluctantly at the beginning, having the team rely on her. When life felt like too much or Catra’s demons started yelling a bit too loud, she could drown them out in creating practice plans or coming up with strategies that would get around other successful teams’ defense. It wasn’t fancy or world changing work she knew, but it was better than some other unhealthy coping styles that Catra that she was all too familiar with. She knew they would never _truly_ leave, the way her traitorous mouth salivated when she thought about her favorite tequila was evident enough, or the way her old foster mom/coach’s unrelenting heartless voice came to light whenever she made a mistake, but she’s gotten better at holding them off and trying her best to replace them.

Bringing her attention back to her team, Catra watches as they go through their dynamic stretching routine. She was proud of the way there was not just one obvious leader on her team, Catra was trying a new tactic that gave everyone the chance to be a captain for a game, if they wanted to. She thought of it while ruminating of her so called “glory days”, where she never had the opportunity to be captain, all thanks to her supposed best friend, the proclaimed Golden Child and ridiculously natural athlete. I mean, she still would have said no to leading a team if she was asked, she would rather cause trouble and have fun, but it would have been _nice_ to have the option. Something about these kids, and again, she would rather be caught _dead_ than admit it, opened up a soft spot in her where she wanted them all to have the opportunities that were denied to her. Or whatever.

Her team, all twenty-two girls energized by hotel bananas and grinning from ear to ear despite their huge mouth guards and eye goggles, jogged over to their coach following their stretches. Catra watched them proudly as friends bumped into others’ shoulders, everyone radiating excitement. She could feel their connection and couldn’t help but pat herself on the back for spending the first week of their practice without sticks or any equipment, just focusing on team bonding and building trust between the coach and the players, but also between just the players. It had only been a couple months, but the team was better than they had ever been and Catra, she'll admit it, was a damn good coach.

“Alright everyone, you read my twenty-five-page report I emailed to you on the team we’re playing, right?” Catra looks around at her team, almost failing to keep her face serious. She was met with various frozen, wide eyes while some even slightly nodded. “Oh my god, I’m kidding! Gwen you looked like you were about to have a heart attack!” The girls erupted into giggles and some even exhaled in relief, Gwen recovering some color to her face shortly after. _God that was too easy._ Catra joined the laughter, even though Ado- some people said it was more like a cackle, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. She allows herself one second to recover from the way that her old teammate, and best friend, drifting accidentally into her thoughts, then refocused back on the eager eyes in front of her.

“Just like we practiced, gang, grab your sticks and a partner and I want to see you on your toes! Savannah, none of that flat footed shit here!” The team erupts into laughter again as they disperse, Savannah getting playfully shoved by her teammates, all of them impatient to start passing the ball around. Catra makes her way to meet up with the referee and the coach from the other game, filled with anticipation herself.

The referee goes through her spiel, Catra only half listening. Nearing the end of the referee repeating the tournament rules and regulations, Catra swears she sees the familiar, yet crushing, golden ponytail she’s tried for six years to forget out of the corner of her eye. She twists her head toward the prospect, quicker than she’d like to admit, but only sees an unbelievably short woman with hair resembling pink and purple cotton candy ( _bleh_ ) and a referee with a … _how’d the tournament let him crop a referee shirt?!_ Catra audibly sighs and returns back to her reality of listening to dull referee talk, that is _still_ going on.

The referee, who Catra will admit is cute but too angsty to be her type (she has more than enough angst herself), _finally_ finishes and the other coach, the one who looked like a pink highlighter threw up on her, reached out her hand with a humongous grin. “Hi Coach! I’m Perfuma and our team, the Awesome Blossoms!” Catra bit down, _hard_ , on her lip in order to not bust out laughing at the unbelievably _ridiculous_ name. She takes a breath in. She was better than that, and it was almost too easy. “Catra. Fright Zone Felines,” she said with a tight smile, shaking the other coach’s hand slightly reluctantly.

“Oh wow! Coach Catra, I love it. And oh! Catra, and Felines! I get it! What a great name!” Perfuma beams at the realization, excitement radiating from her “big brain moment”. Catra manages a polite smile and nod back, thanks the referee, and heads back to her sideline to instruct her team to change drills.

“I hope to see you at the Coaches Mixer tonight, Catra! It’s at The Mystacor Hotel!” Perfuma yells as Catra walks back, and she throws up a thumbs up, careful not to turn around and commit to anything she won’t want to do. _Hopefully Scorpia doesn’t know about that because I_ really _would rather lay in a big bed watching free movies and eating Dibs from the hotel lobby than make conversation with the human depiction of an easter egg in a probably alcohol free environment._ Even though she was _trying_ to decrease her alcohol use, there would be no way she could go through that sober.

“Felines! Gather up!” Catra calls out, grabbing her clip board, dry erase markers, and pre-printed pre-game practice plans from her bag. “How do we feel about some 3v2s that work into 4v5s?” Some girls groan. “Defense don’t get your panties in a twist, Jesus, we’ll get some box double team drills short after. Happy?” The groans change quickly to satisfied grunts with some scattered chuckles; Catra loved to make them laugh. “Okay let’s get in a cheer in and after we those drills we’ll practice our Cat and Mouse play, sound good?” The team shout in confirmation, putting their sticks together above their heads, creating a canopy of metal and net lacrosse sticks. “Alright, Faye, hit it!”

“Fright Zone Felines on three! One! Two Three!”

“FRIGHT ZONE FELINES!” The team cheers, shouting afterwards in excitement. They race out onto the field, organizing themselves because they all learned quickly Catra didn’t want to baby them, and they didn’t want to be babied. The mutual trust, despite the age gap, was something both parties appreciate, and Catra considered herself to be immature anyways.

Focusing on her playbook, Catra concentrates on what plays would be good to practice during the game. She wasn’t able to strategize for too long because Catra _swears_ she hears her name in heated, stage whisper conversation behind her and whips around, unsure if it’s the nerves for the first game or if she really heard her name. And yet, all she sees is tweedle doo and tweedle dumb, the pink haired and crop topped referee duo seemingly watching the game going on behind Catra. She huffs as she turns back around making sure to focus her ears to the pair behind her. Coincidentally, Catra does have great hearing.

“… I think it is, Bow … I remember her saying she …” _Who the fuck is named Bow?_ Catra tries her best not to visibly lean backwards or show any indication that she’s listening, especially from about 20 feet away, but she just has a _feeling_. Catra’s learned that her gut is more often right than wrong, and without an actual parental figure as guidance, her gut was as good as she was going to get.

“… fits the description. Should we tell her?” _Oo it’s getting good. Just a little more …_ “… don’t know, Glim … be upset … said her name was Ca – “

“COACH!” Catra nearly jumps in the air as she’s thrust back into her responsibilities. Hey eyes focus back on her team before her, all twenty plus middle schoolers, looking at her expectantly.

“Uhhh …” She scrambles for her papers that were dropped somewhere at some point. “Sam, how much time you got?”

“10 minutes until start, Coach.”

“Thanks, Sam, okay let’s work on our Cat and Mouse play real quick, then Captain’s Meeting, and then we’ll do stick check. I’ll meet you guys out there, ‘kay?” The coach takes a few seconds to breathe and refocus on the task at hand. _Win the game, coach the kids, deal with weird whispering couple later._ However, throwing a big fat wrench in her mental game plan, when she turns around to grab her stick, the sparkle twins are looking right at her. Fighting every instinct instructing her to freeze, she meets their eyes, leaning down to grab her equipment without breaking their stare. The cropped topped referee breaks first, breaking into a nervous smile chuckle combo, forcing the girl, who was 5’1” on a good day, turn back around with him. Catra turns around afterwards, heading to her team, unsure what to think of that odd encounter.

The game was as easy as expected. By halftime, the Felines were up by eight, letting the … Awesome Blossoms ( _BLEH!)_ score a mercy goal because they weren’t _cruel_. Catra used the game as a way to further define their plays where the offensive side was not as comfortable as she would have liked, which could not have gone better. They sharpened the midfielder’s double team to a fine point, and the teamwork and communication almost brought a tear to Catra’s eye. She knew this was only the beginning, even just for this tournament, and to not get cocky now, but she couldn’t help but feel more than confident with her team. They had the skills, they had the teamwork, they had the smarts, now they just needed the results.

The Fright Zone Felines won 13-1 by the end of the 50 minute game, and it was only 9am. Catra felt good, no, she felt _great_. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time. She gives the team some time to find some shade, get a smoothie, or just wander around the large tournament grounds before their next game at noon, grateful for the break herself.

Her team had played some scrimmages against other teams in the region, but this is their first big tournament, at least with her as the coach. A smile stretched across her face, elation concealing any feeling of doubt she had.

… Until she remembered the weird experience with the two people she had literally _never_ met before. _They know what a horrible person you are, it was only a matter of time, you disgusting, worthless child. You’re a fraud._ An all too familiar voice jeers, taking advantage at Catra’s moment of vulnerability. She clutches her fist, closes her eyes, running through the mantras she’s fought to engrain in her mind, with the help her therapist, Spinny, to fight that _fucking_ voice. _You are worthy. I am more powerful than her. I am okay. Just breathe._

It takes some time, but her fists loosen, face relaxes, and she thanks the stars she had her large sunglasses covering her eyes. Catra blinks away tears before they fall, exhaling a shaky breath and finds a nice tree to sit under. Taking off her infamous red bandana, Catra runs her hands through her dense hair that seemed to have no end. Even though it took an ungodly amount of time and product, Catra loved her hair, and knew it was one of her best features. Ador – a lot of people thought so too.

With a sigh, Catra takes off her sunglasses and ties her bandana around her head, intended to knock out a 20-minute nap now that the girls on her team are out wreaking havoc on the tournament grounds. Smiling at the thought of two of her players, Korra and Asami, sneaking off thinking they’re being sly, Catra starts to lower her bandana, until she sees _them_. Laughing. Like they heard the funniest fucking thing in the world.

In a thoughtless movement Spinny would probably shake her head sadly over, Catra stands up in a swift motion and heads toward their direction, fire in her step. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the game or the way she absolutely _hated_ when people were too coward to say things to her face, but she wanted to know what they were saying.

“HEY!” Catra shouts, causing the duo to freeze, almost humorously, like they were caught with a hand in the cookie jar. 

“Oh _shit._ ” The short one says with literal glitter in her hair, grabbing onto the referee next to her with both arms, looking like she was attempting to teleport right out of the situation.

“Oh _shit_ is right, Sparkles! Who the fuck are you?”

“Um. It’s Glimmer. Actually. And this is Bow.” She says, attempting to smooth over her bouncy hair and standing up a little straighter, trying to look more threatening. Catra scoffs at the attempt, crossing her arms in retaliation, _I’m the most threatening one here, bitch ass._

“Okay, and? Why were you talking about me earlier?” Catra snapped, slightly aware of people staring but too ablaze up to care. “Do I _know_ you?”

The couple looks at each other, looking towards the other for answers no one seemed to have. The referee gulps dramatically.

“Well …” Mr. Crop Top starts, elongating the word, apparently unsure what he was even going to say.

“Well?”

And just before Catra gets the answer she was so eager to find, she hears the _one_ voice she found worse that Ms. Weaver’s, running up to the sparkle duo.

“Hey guys! Did you see the game! They did so well!” Catra hears her footsteps thunder towards them from across the walkway, _good to know she’s still so fucking massive you can hear her stomps from miles away.._ “Who’s your friend! I used to know a friend who had hair like –“ Catra tore her stare away from the sparkle twins, who were making every hand gesture telling the friend to stop coming over here, and turns around to face the one person she was no where near ready to see. “Oh shit.”

_Oh shit was right._

**Author's Note:**

> Lacrosse words:
> 
> \- There are four positions on the lacrosse field, we have your goalie, defense, midfielders, and attackers (or offense).  
> \- A 3v2 or a 5v4 just resembles players on each "team", in this case, Catra was talking about a drill which has three offensive players versus two defensive players, giving the offensive side an extra "man" (I know it's heteronormative but a "man" is just a player), same goes for 5v4!  
> \- A defensive box drill is just where is two defensive player and one offensive player, where the offensive player has the ball and tries to get through both defenders. The defenders normally "double team" the offensive player, where they both defend the same player.  
> \- Captain's meeting is when the captains on both teams meet with the referee and do a coin toss, which determines who picks which side they want to start on first (there's strategy with this one bc normally the sun is in a weird spot for the goalie.)  
> \- Stick check - the referees check everyone's lacrosse stick before the game because there is so many rules lmao
> 
> Let me know what you think and if there were any confusing parts! Thanks for your time <3


End file.
